


The Last Goodbye?

by Mollygail



Category: White Collar
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, spoilers season 3 - 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollygail/pseuds/Mollygail
Summary: Neal has left but his friends get an opportunity to learn more about him.





	The Last Goodbye?

As Peter finished getting dressed he looked out the window and thought about how well the weather suited his mood. Dark clouds were pouring rain down in a steady stream. It had been a week since his partner and friend had died. Killed while trying to bring down a ring of criminals in an effort to earn his own freedom. Peter fought the tears that were trying to spill out of his eyes. He selfishly was glad that he had not had to plan the memorial service for Neal. June had taken care of the arrangements. 

Elizabeth straightened his tie and laid a comforting hand on his chest. “Hon, I don’t recognize this tie. When did you get it?”

Peter sighed, fighting the tears again. “I got it from Neal’s desk. He had a whole drawer full of ties. I thought after all the time he spent trying to update my wardrobe he would want me to have it.”

“Of course he would want you to have it. We should get going. We don’t want to be late.”

**************************************************  
Peter looked around at the crowd that had gathered in the church. There were FBI agents, office staff and even building janitors. All of whom had come to like and respect Neal. There were also some shady people that Neal had known from his pre-FBI days. Peter wasn’t surprised at the size of the crowd; Neal had been considerate, kind and friendly to everyone. 

Along one wall of the foyer there was a display of Neal’s artwork. Arts and crafts as Neal had referred to it. There were copies of some masterpieces as well as a few original works. There were paintings and sculptures and photographs. Neal had been an amazingly talented individual. 

The organist began playing and people started to take their seats. When the music stopped and the mourners were quiet, a tall, slender woman approached the podium. A quiet murmur spread across the room as people whispered to each other wondering who she was.

She spoke quietly into the microphone. “Thank you all for coming today. I took the opportunity to speak to some of you as you came in today and was amazed at the wide variety of people that were impacted by Neal Caffrey’s life. I’ve met FBI agents, secretaries, janitors and correctional officers. I also met several people who wouldn't say what they did for a living.” A teary smile appeared on her face. 

“Some of you here thought of Neal as a friend. To some he was a coworker. But whether he was a friend, coworker, acquaintance or accomplice none of you would deny that he was a criminal. In fact, some here would say that’s all he would ever have been, had he lived.” Peter felt her eyes on him. “Neal was a criminal, but he was so much more. He was an artist and a musician. He loved to cook. He was smart, and funny, and loyal and protective of the people he loved.”

“He was all those things, but to me he was so much more. My name is Dr. Danielle Brooks and I am Neal’s twin sister. He called me Nell. You all know about Neal’s life as a criminal. I’m here to tell you about his life as my brother.” The lights dimmed a bit and a projection screen came down from the ceiling. Nell pressed a button on the remote control in her hand and a picture appeared on the screen. Two smiling toddlers looked out at the audience. “This is Neal and me before WITSEC. Two ordinary happy kids. You all know that Neal escaped from prison a few years back, but I’m here to tell you that wasn’t his first escape from behind bars.” She clicked the remote again and the image of a blue eyed little boy appeared. The boy was climbing over the side rail of his crib and there were pillows on the floor where he was about to fall. The expression on his face was wide eyed innocence. “Although I don’t remember this incident I have been told it was a regular occurrence. He would throw the pillows over the side to cushion his fall. A natural born escape artist. The prison system never really stood a chance of holding him once he decided to leave.” Peter smiled as he looked at the sweet childish face of his friend. 

Clicking to the next picture showed Neal at about six years of age. “His first theft was when we were six. By that time our mother was an alcoholic who spent most of her money on booze. One day I suggested we go see our Aunt Ellen to get something to eat. Neal had already figured out that going to Ellen would make Mom angry, so he came up with another plan. He stole food for us from the little market down the street. Peanut butter, jelly and a loaf of bread. PB&J became a staple for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” There were tears streaming down many of the faces in the audience. Nell paused a moment to fight back tears of her own. “He always made sure I didn’t go hungry.”

Nell clicked the remote and a picture of a slightly older Neal appeared. “His first breaking and entering was committed when he was seven. In later years we would refer to it as the great clock caper.” 

Seven, Peter thought, he was only seven when he committed his first B&E. 

Nell continued. “Neal loved school and he hated being late. But, because mom was usually hungover, we were almost always late. So Neal broke into the school and set all of the clocks back a half hour. Was it a success? Well, he wasn’t caught. He got away clean and no one suspected him of the crime. So it was at least a partial success. However, the teachers caught on to the time discrepancy pretty quickly. So, no, it wasn’t a glorious success.”

The next picture showed a school photo of an older Neal. “Neal’s first forgeries were wonderfully successful. Two city bus passes so we’d never be late for school again. I have to say I was less than thrilled about them. I just didn’t like school the way he did. He asked me when we were in seventh grade why I didn’t like school and I told him it was boring. The lecture he gave me about that seemed to go on for ages. ‘You have to apply yourself’ he said. ‘Set goals and work to achieve them.’ He agreed with me that school was boring, because it was too easy, but said we’d need a good record to get into college. After that he started stealing books from the older kids to keep me interested in learning. By the time we finished eighth grade we had read all of the text books that were used through twelfth grade. When he got caught stealing a trigonometry book in eighth grade the school decided to test our IQs. We both scored in the 180s and the school wanted to put us in advanced classes but Mom wouldn’t allow it. That’s when Neal started pressuring me to set a career goal. A few weeks later I told him I wanted to be a surgeon. He started stealing books from the university pre-med program. Without his encouragement and support I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

Peter sat listening to Nell talk and realized just how little he had really known about Neal. It was almost like she was talking about a stranger. 

Another picture appeared on the screen. It was a picture of Neal and Nell beside each other. Neal’s arm was around his sister’s shoulder while her arm was around his waist. Her head leaned against him as though she was seeking comfort. Their expressions showed deep sadness. Nell paused as she looked at the picture. When she spoke her voice was full of grief. “This picture was taken the day before Neal left home. We had just found out that our mother had lied to us about our father all of our lives. Neal couldn’t handle it. When he told me he was leaving I was devastated. He made me promise,” tears fell down her cheeks and she paused to wipe them away with a crumpled tissue. “He made me promise to graduate and go to college and he promised he would keep in touch. He tried to call every month but as time passed he got deeper into a lifestyle that he wanted to protect me from. I began to hear from him less often. Then he taught me about burner phones and the importance of keeping conversations short. I missed him so much.”

Her tears were falling steadily now but she seemed determined to keep going. “ Almost a year ago he called and, instead of the usual short conversation, he couldn’t seem to stop talking. He was depressed. He told me about what had happened with our father framing Agent Burke for murder. Neal had promised me that he was done with his criminal life but now he was telling me that he felt like he’d never be able to escape from it. People kept pushing and pulling at him. He said he felt like a puppet and too many people were trying to control him. I had never heard him sound so broken and desperate. It scared me to hear him like that, so I decided it was time for a visit. We hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years. I stayed with him for a week and we made plans. He was going to finish his sentence and we were going to be together.” Another picture appeared of Neal and his sister. It was similar to the one taken years before but in this one Neal seemed to be the one seeking comfort. He looked broken. Devastated and desperate. Nell looked helplessly at the pastor who was nearby and she stepped away from the podium sobbing. 

The pastor said a few words of comfort and then ended the service with a prayer and an invitation to stay for lunch at the church. As the people filed out to the dining hall they looked again at the pictures that were now showing like a slide show on the screen. Quiet conversations could be heard among the groups of people. Most seemed to be amazed at how little they had known about Neal’s past and many could be heard saying what a remarkable man he had been. He would never be forgotten. 

Peter and El had stayed for the lunch hoping to find an opportunity to speak to Neal’s sister. They found her talking to June and stood quietly a short distance away, waiting for Nell to notice them. June noticed them first and held out her hand to El. “Nell, dear, I want to introduce you to some more of Neal’s friends. This is Agent Peter Burke and his wife Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth took hold of Nell’s hand and pulled her in for a hug. “We loved your brother very much and will miss him terribly. We are so sorry for your loss. If there is anything we can do for you will you please let us know.” Peter stood awkwardly by El’s side and nodded his head. 

Tears started again to fall from Nell’s eyes as she looked at Peter. “There is something you might be able to do. I’ve heard that the reason Neal was killed was that he was trying to help the FBI catch the Pink Panthers in an effort to gain his freedom.” She paused a moment to regain her composure. “Since I’ve heard his efforts were successful would it be possible for you to make sure his record shows that? I want his record to show that he died a free man. A..a hero.” She started to sob and hugged Peter as she continued to sob on his shoulder. “Please.”  
Peter awkwardly patted her on the back and looked helplessly at El, who gave him a stern look and nodded toward Nell. “I will do everything I can to make sure his record shows he fulfilled his contract with the FBI and he died a free man. Of course. It’s what he deserved.” As Peter stopped speaking his eyes also overflowed with tears.

********************************************************

Later that night as Nell sat in her hotel room her phone started to ring. When she answered it she was relieved to hear the voice of her beloved brother. “How did it go?” he asked. “Were you able to play the part of the grieving sister convincingly?”

“Of course I was convincing” she replied. “I am grieving. I know you said this was necessary to protect your friends, but I just wish there was another way. You love those people and they loved you. I hate that you had to hurt them like this.”

She heard the tears in Neal’s voice when he was able to answer her. “It was the only way to keep them safe. I won’t endanger my friends anymore. I intend to keep the promise I made to you that we would be together. We can meet in Paris and we’ll make plans together for my new life. I’ll make up for all the years we were apart. I love you, Sis.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

Fin


End file.
